


The Correlation Between Cupcakes & Creation

by MariekoWest



Category: Dragon Ball Z, GohanxPiccolo
Genre: (Poor Attempts at) Humour, Allusions to Goku & His Asexuality, And Collateral Damage, April Fool's Day 2018, Canon Male-Hermaphroditic Piccolo, Crack(-ish), Cupcakes and Crimes of Passion, Cussing (sort of), Dubious Consent, Fan Service, Fluff (it's there somewhere...), Hermaphroditic & Alien Biology, Interspecies Sex/Rape(?), Multi, NSFW, Other, Porn Without Plot, Possible OOC-ness, Smut, Uke Piccolo, Wonky Peripheral Headcanons, Yaoi, 腐向け, 飯Ｐ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 02:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14154786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariekoWest/pseuds/MariekoWest
Summary: We start with the cliché "uke in heat for no apparent reason", then bring in the "seme who suddenly shows up for reasons-no-one-really-cares-about", and—voilà!—we have your basic, good ol' porn without plot that every decenthornyyaoi fangirl loves! Except that this one has cupcakes! (Um. Probably not in the way you think though...)





	1. The Proverbial Heat

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Musey and I take no responsibility for any soul-scarring, life-altering damage you may incur from reading this. We regret nothing (well, except maybe the title and the summary...).

It was just another day – as far as he could tell; nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, there wasn’t anything happening at all… Piccolo Daimaoh Jr. wished he could say the same for himself.  But “normal” was the last thing he was feeling that day.

Something was off… _No_ … There was something was _seriously wrong_ with him – he could tell. His heart was racing, his throat felt parched, and his loins twitched and ached in a way it had never done before. Tingly sweltering heat built and rose from every one of his pores like tiny vaporous geysers; countless beads of sweat peppered his skin—which only seemed to sizzle and fizzle the more he tried to extinguish it. A restlessness unlike anything he’s ever felt before was slowly engulfing him; he was suddenly hyperaware of his body and uncomfortable in his own skin. Getting air through his nose and past his throat down to his lungs had become increasingly laborious; every breath felt like a heat wave rippling within his flesh, all in all filling him with the uncontrollable urge to disentangle himself from his garments and…  

 _There was unquestionably something unusual happening to him!_ But he had no idea whatsoever of the nature of his affliction or how he had acquired it.

“Piccolo-san! There you are!”

The hazy expanse of featureless sky morphed into a face he knew even more acutely than his own. Even in his muddled state, with the image offset by the glaring mid-afternoon sun and blurred by his own unsteady vision, there was no mistaking who it was.

“Gohan.”

Even his voice felt hot and heavy, along with the rest of the backdrop inside and outside of his mind. He wasn’t sure if he was actually seeing anything or it was just a mirage (*the kind they say you saw before you died)… From where he partly lay, the world bobbed up and down and side to side in an undulating-swaying motion. Yes. _This must be really bad_ if he was hallucinating now too…

The mirage blinked down at him, confusion evident on its face, and Piccolo wondered if he looked as severe as he felt.

“Err… What are you doing, Piccolo-san?”

Lazily, the image of Gohan sharpened and dulled then seemed to multiply and bleed in all directions. A heavy sigh of resignation slipped from his parched lips. He closed his eyes and gave up on trying to get the boy into better focus.

“Meditating.”

“Oh…” Gohan—or the mirage—scratched its head. “I see… It’s just… I’ve never seen you meditate like this before… half lying-half floating and half submerged in water, and—” He coughed stiffly as he looked away.

Piccolo noted the rosy tint flooding the youth’s cheeks, idly watching as the colour blossomed fully, highlighting chestnut doe-eyes and ruby red lips.

“—in a state of complete… undress.”

Piccolo felt his loins give another more violent lurch. He shifted his legs underwater in an attempt to ignore the throbbing in his groin.

“I’m bathing as well.”

“Uhh, right. Ah, errm, okay. Well, I- uh, I just, err, wanted to say ‘hi’, that’s all. But it seems I caught you at a bad time, since you’re busy, err—bath-meditating…”

Piccolo relinquished his supine position and planted his feet on the muddy floor of the lake. He did it so abruptly that Gohan would have toppled off Nimbus if he hadn’t grabbed the boy’s shoulders to steady him. Piccolo didn’t know why his hands lingered longer than it should have, as did his gaze which flitted from shiny cherubim lips to big dark-chocolate orbs which were boring into his own ocean-blue depths like it had invisible hooks reeling him in.

Without thinking, Piccolo took a generous whiff… Instantly, the familiar intoxicating mélange of Gohan’s soap, skin, and sweat permeated his senses… But the usually sweetly comforting fragrance hit his brain this time like a sledgehammer and he swooned. He doubted very much that any illusion could smell so potent… and _arousing_.

Alright. Definitely _not_ a figment of his ailing mind.

“Piccolo-san!”

He half expected to fall right through the magical cloud his rescuer was sitting on, as he reflexively placed his palms down upon it for added support. To his bewilderment, his hands and elbows met enough resistance on its wispy surface to keep him upright. His limp body was within the confines of strong arms and a solid chest in a safe embrace the very next instant.

“Piccolo-san! What’s wrong?? Are you alright?!”

“G-Gohan…” he groaned weakly. “I… I think…” He really did not want to say it but… “I am ill.”

“Y- you’re sick?! Of what? Oh no! What happened?? Piccolo-san!!”

Nameks didn’t normally get sick; Piccolo knew this well. And he knew that Gohan knew this too. But in those moments, he didn’t know what he knew anymore – it was as though an unseen force was zapping him of all his strength. The more he struggled to stand, the more he stumbled clumsily—which Gohan would have no more of, apparently.

Piccolo was hefted onto the cloud bridal-style and held securely as Nimbus skimmed them over the lake to an even patch of dry land where he was gently laid down. A palm shakily flattened over his forehead, and  the worry on Gohan’s face compounded as his limp antennae and clammy skin were examined.

“Crumbs, Piccolo-san… You’re so cold!”

“Feels like… I’m burning… C-can’t focus Ki… _Too hot._ ”

“Is that why you were in the water?! This looks serious, Piccolo-san. I should get help!”

“No!” His clawed hands shot out to find purchase on the boy’s clothes, tightly clasping fistfuls of it. “I… don’t need… help. I’ll be fine. J- just let me rest.”

“At least, let me take you to the temple! Dende-sama would know what to do—”

“I would rather remain here…”

“But—”

“ _I mean it_ , Gohan.” Piccolo dug his talons until he felt them bite into the boy’s flesh. “I do not want… to be seen like this…”

Then, as though struck by a lightning bolt, he felt what little energy he had left dissipate in a flash. He fell back into Gohan’s lap as his grip came loose and his limbs fell limply over his abdomen.

“Piccolo-sama!!!” Gohan cried as his mentor’s head lolled lifelessly to one side.

Exasperation boiled inside Piccolo at his state of helplessness. His body was pressed even closer to his friend’s and he felt completely powerless. As much as he wanted to open his eyes and assure Gohan that he was fine– he really wasn’t, and he really couldn’t. His shallow breaths and encumbrance evidenced as much.

“Piccolo-sama! Please, tell me what’s wrong!”

“B- burning…” He wanted to speak more but incoherent groans won over; his eyes were scrunched shut and his head tossed weakly from side to side. The notion that Gohan was somehow triggering the worst symptoms of his “condition” kept nagging at him, since it was somehow much easier to manage earlier before the boy had arrived. Which meant…

He needed to be alone— _away from Gohan!_

“G-Gohan… Just… l-leave me…”

“‘Leave you’?! What?! No! I won’t leave you! Not like this!”

“Please…”

“If you won’t let me get help, then I’m not letting you ditch me! I won’t let you out of my sight!”

“I d-don’t want you to… see me like this…”

“W-what do you mean?” A fiery blaze was spreading across Gohan’s cheeks as he gave his companion’s wet form a cursory lookover, flushing even darker at being reminded of his friend’s nakedness. “I-it’s not like I haven’t seen you unclothed before…”

"No." Piccolo despaired. The longer Gohan held him, the more the alien sensations prevailed. He felt almost completely taken over, and he could no longer… “M-make it… stop…!”

The world pulsed in a brilliant flashes of light and a sharp ringing began to fill his ears, gradually dulling everything around like he was slowly being submerged underwater. His vision went in and out of focus and it was getting harder and harder to corral his thoughts…

Gohan was staring at him – hard; that was the only thing impressing his awareness at the moment—the boy’s presence, the boy’s scent, the boy’s warmth; those penetrating eyes that were speaking louder than his thin yet full cherry lips had been only minutes ago but had now gone deathly silent. And that silence between them was enough—more than words could ever communicate—the boy’s body understood completely even if his mind was still hard-pressed to keep up.

Gohan’s blood pulsed through his veins in a frenzy, stirring and firming flesh—and fast. Piccolo could hear it. He groaned weakly. The idea of having that part of Gohan inside him flashed through every neuron and synapse in his brain, making the sweltering heat crawling beneath his skin worse; his usual equanimity and ironclad self-control seemed to be melting out of the most intimate spaces of him in steamy, frothy dribble after another…

_And he couldn’t make it stop!_

Piccolo heaved and gasped as the feeling of drowning persisted, his mouth hung open as he strived to guide air to his lungs and stop it rushing to his head. But everything was out of control now—no part of his body seemed to want to obey the rational side of him; his mind was merely a slave trapped within skin and flesh, bound to suffer with it until the whatever it was that was ailing him was stopped… or appeased?

 _What is happening to me?_ a part of him screamed. But that part receded just as quickly as it surged when his lips were suddenly crushed by the boy’s own and everything that had been screaming in agony inside him was suddenly singing out to the heavens in pure, harmonious bliss and— _how could Gohan’s lips against his feel so impossibly divine?_

Gohan did not start out gently. He pressed hard against his master, recklessly biting and scraping and suckling those supple lips. Soon, he was roughly thrusting his tongue deep inside the Namek’s mouth, avidly courting a response. Piccolo moaned, unable to stop himself from parting his lips to welcome the intrusion or his tongue from enthusiastically pushing back. The longer their mouths melded, the more heated their exchanges got, and the more the entirety of Piccolo was taken over by the overwhelming urge to open his legs and invite the demi-Saiyajin to do whatever—however he wanted, _anything_ to soothe the demanding ache in his groin and set the pooling lava in his belly free. He kissed he boy back just as savagely, hoping it conveyed all his desperate needs at that moment in all its maddening totality, and how much he wanted no one else but the boy before him to be the one to fulfil it.

“P-Piccolo-san!” Gohan mewled breathlessly, amidst the smashing of mouths.

“Gohan!” Piccolo gasped, mindless with want. He wanted it… wanted Gohan _so badly._ He did not even know that it was possible to desire something this much, to the point of insanity.

So far gone and lost in the sensations now that he had given in to it, that he wasn’t even aware anymore that his hands had travelled south to the source of the mind-numbing craving… He was possessed by the singular notion of Gohan violating that part of him as deeply and as brutally as possible – pounding into his insides teeth-chatteringly hard and without mercy, and filling his belly to bursting with his delicious, hot, gooey semen… 

When Gohan suddenly broke apart from their torrid exchange, the glaring scarlet the boy’s shocked face had become told Piccolo that the unchaste images in his mind were no longer a secret. And for a heartbeat he feared that his dearest friend would be repulsed… But the sudden flurry of vivid images and visions that pervaded his mind nearly blew it apart right then and there. It was more than enough assurance that what Gohan felt and thought was quite the contrary of what he feared. And with the way those dilated rust-brown irises framed by half-masts and lush eyelashes were riveted on him like a hungry predator lusting for his prey, he knew…

_Their most debauched fantasies resonated as one._

There was no room for modesty now. Piccolo had nothing left to lose and everything to gain by levelling with his lover…

“G-Gohan…! I… _need_ you…” he whispered. “ _I need you._ _Now._ _Please._ ”

Needless to say, the half-Saiyajin needed no further prompting. Gohan broke their kiss to move down to attend to his beloved partner’s “need”.

Never having touched himself in such a way before, Piccolo had been fumbling; fingers scrabbled unwittingly to ease the area of his greatest discomfort and in doing so, he accidentally brushed against the swollen apex atop his pubic mound. He gasped sharply when the world spun downward and upside-down as his brain is blasted with pure pleasure in prodigious doses. He insensibly rubbed at the spot more fervently in an attempt to reactivate and drag out the sensation. Pain intermingled and magnified the ecstasy as razor-sharp claws accidentally grazed the layers of delicate flesh when he tried to descend into his depths and quell the fire which was growing unbearable.

But Gohan would not allow it. He pried his master’s hands out of the way to make room for himself. He dove in and let his tongue spill out and frolic around Piccolo’s tenderness, squeezing in between all the gaps and tracing every delicate fold and tuck. Unreserved, throaty moans broke free from Piccolo’s chest as jolts of pleasure raked through every muscle and vein of him, shooting all the way up to the very centre of his addlepated brain. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of Gohan doing dirty things to him—kissing him so obscenely _down there_ and devouring his flowing juices with such bold gusto. Somewhere in the very back of his dwindling more rational consciousness, he knew that he and Gohan should not be doing this. But at the same time, so far gone was he, that he really could not afford to pay that part of him any heed at all. His mental faculties seemed to have shifted into a completely different set of gears – all of which nothing else mattered except letting Gohan take him again and again until the inferno raging within his flesh is exhausted and extinguished.

“G-Gohannggh! P-please! D-don’t stop!”

A crisp flash of brightness and exploding energy like cracking lightning passed his unseeing eyes—the only warning he got—before his wrists were pulled up above his head and fastened in place by Ki bonds in the likeness of massive iron clamps. Piccolo blinked rapidly at his now Super Saiyajin lover as he felt fingers—he could no longer tell how many—joined Gohan’s mouth and gathered around his weeping core like a band of bullies ganging up on a helpless prey; and together with the boy’s lips, teeth, and tongue– besieged his extreme sensitivities without remorse. Three fingers teased his clenched entrance, drawing every possible unintelligible sound from his lips, before boring into him all at once, twisting and rolling to break through the resistance met. The bulbous pink crown cresting his puffed up mound wasn’t getting any lighter a punishment either, as the rest of the fingers fondled and kneaded—incessantly bearing down on the blushing flesh until it was even more gloriously engorged.

Piccolo’s vision had long deserted him in lieu of a psychedelic aurora beating in a whole spectrum of colours, so bright and beautiful that he wondered if he was actually seeing their pulsing Ki energies swirling and spiking around them—the closest thing to a physical yet still phantasmagorical manifestation of unbridled pleasure. Gohan seemed to know exactly what to do to him and how to keep him just writhing and squirming; unable to speak or think or even defend himself. He could feel his hips bobbing in perfect sync with those fingers now even if he wasn’t really sure why; as though the boy was a puppeteer and he was a mere marionette on strings, moving only as he was being coaxed and directed to. But he knew he was being led on to something – his body felt like a volcano on the very verge of erupting, and it was Gohan slowly guiding him to that much-needed culmination.

Soon, his breath became a steady stream of clipped huffs and puffs from his lips and nostrils. Low grunts and loud breathless moans rumbled off his chest and spasms repeatedly wracked his body until his hips reflexively bucked up into the air with the rest of him; entire body going rigid like a towed bow string. The aurora shattered into pristine bursts of light, blinding him, and whiting out the world as his climax crashed upon him in a succession of mind-blowing waves; a fantastically long-winded howl rending his throat along with it. He choked on that very cry somewhere in the middle when, without warning, Gohan’s thick, rock-hardness barrelled all the way inside him mid-orgasm as strong hands clamped around his hips to keep him in place and angle him; before the demi-Saiyajin immediately exploded into action, pummelling in and out of his body with bruising force and heart-stopping speed—prolonging his series of climaxes and pumping him full with hot, generous spurt after another until globs of their mixed come was squirting and overflowing from his abused orifice.

Finally utterly spent, their bodies collapsed like deadweight, already laden with sleep on the forest ground. In a matter of seconds, Gohan was out like a light atop his chest, while the Namek found himself eluding the sandman a little bit longer…

A sigh floated up from Piccolo’s lips as he felt the infernal conflagration that had taken over his body and been consuming him only minutes ago dying out at last. He knew that what they did—what he had allowed to happen—most certainly had consequences; he was almost sure that Gohan had successfully fertilized him and that an egg was already beginning to form in his abdomen. Though he wasn’t one to engage in such reckless acts, he had a feeling that if he had not allowed the boy to impregnate him, that accursed heat would not leave him until their copulation bore fruit. Well, certainly, there was no denying the fact that he was now sated beyond anything he could ever imagine. Why and how he was struck by this “heat” in the first place was still a mystery (as Nameks did not normally go through unplanned ovulation) but for now, he supposed a well-deserved nap would not change any consequences he had already incurred. Furthermore, he wasn’t even sure he didn’t just dream everything up; and if those “consequences” were real and still there when he did wake up, then they could both deal with it then. With that in mind, the satisfied Namek finally allowed himself to be dragged along with his young lover to the land of dreamless slumber.

 

 **End of I dunno what I did.  
Epilogue ahead ** (which I really don't advise reading if you want to keep this a PWP) **…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * * *
> 
> (2018/01/03 – 2018/03/31)


	2. Epilogue: The Subplot Without Plot

_Strange,_ Gohan remembered thinking when he woke that morning to find his mother still asleep as evidenced by the absence of her usual punctually set table and breakfast. Even stranger so, the table remained bare even an hour later after he had finished getting ready and was about to head out to find Piccolo to train with. Well, almost completely bare, save for one curiosity…

A box of freshly baked cupcakes.

Or at least, that’s what it was – before someone emptied all of it but for a single one.

_Father must be visiting,_ Gohan surmised.

He only ever saw those cupcakes whenever his father turned up for a visit. His mother wasn’t big on sweets and Goten would always be at Capsule Corporation spending the night at Bloomer’s. The cupcakes were usually an * _omiyage_ that Trunks offered courtesy of the teal-haired scientist whenever he came over to pick up his best friend. Everyone knew that the cupcakes were Goku’s favourite—which led to Gohan finding yet another strange feature of the early morning tableau: _that singular cupcake sitting so innocently and unscathed inside the box_. Usually, there was always not a crumb of a survivor left of the tasty bunch come morning…

His father must have intentionally left one for him… There was no other logical explanation that sufficed.

Shrugging, Gohan popped the fluffy confection into his mouth, masticating slowly as he moved to the fruit basket that he himself had filled at dawn, snagging half a dozen apples and stuffing his satchel with it before heading out… He supposed that would be enough to stem his hunger and get him through the day before he and Piccolo had lunch in the wilderness that afternoon.

_Mmm._ Gohan never had the pleasure of tasting Mrs.Brief’s Lemon Meringue Kiss Cupcakes before, but now that he had _… Delicious!_

That was the last thing he remembered that he was fully aware of thinking that morning…

 

**-x-**

**Gohan.**

 

“Gohan.”

 

He stirred. _Was he in a different planet with more gravity? Why did his body feel so heavy…? And why was he hearing—_

 

“Piccolo-san!” Son Gohan rubbed his eyes, jolted awake by the memories of his dream which had not entirely receded into his subconscious. Then again, the dream he had was the kind of dream that usually never did…

He tried to sit up but realized that he was too dizzy.

“Are you feeling alright?” Piccolo queried as he assisted his pupil.

“Y-yes… I think so…” Gohan replied shakily. “Whu- what happened to me?”

When he heard no reply nor acknowledgement from the taller man, he looked up and found Piccolo staring at him with an inscrutable expression.

“P- Piccolo-san…?”

“Tell me, Gohan…” The Namek looked away, and an uncharacteristic splash of colour on those verdant cheeks, faint as it was, was starting to become visible.

“Yeah…?”

“Do you… really want to… do those things to me?”

The half-Saiyajin blinked rapidly. His mind did a double-take on him. It was so random and weird that he suddenly wondered if he was actually still asleep and only woke up in another dream…  

“Do what? What do you mea—oh no… Piccolo-san!! Did you read my mind??”

More colour flooded Piccolo’s cheeks all the way to his ears. “I didn’t… But you were practically feeding your mental images into mine… I couldn’t shut it out.”

“Oh, Kamisama…” Gohan fell back onto his bum as his knees wobbled with his shock. He wanted to kneel down and bow deeply to his friend at least a hundred times—wanted to prostrate himself, face-down on the floor or better yet, bury himself six-feet underground and hope that the maggots gnawed at his carcass fast enough—anything to atone for the horrible, shameful crime he had just committed against his pure-hearted mentor and best friend. But still not having the strength to even move from where he had landed, he hung his head instead, as low as he could, and mustered his most sincerely apologetic tone of voice. “I did not mean for that to happen… I am so, _so very_ sorry, Piccolo-san!”

Piccolo said nothing for some minutes. Again, Gohan ventured a peek, his own face severely flushed; unshed tears glistening at the corner of his eyes.

“No…?”

Was it just his imagination, or did Piccolo sound… _disappointed?_

**_Do you… really want to… do those things to me?_ **

Piccolo’s mellifluous voice-over flashbacked in his mind. And for some reason, Gohan’s heart began to gallop like wild horses of a runaway chariot.

“W-well, err… uh… N-no, it’s not like that—I-I mean, it’s natural to have dreams like that! Uh, t-that are– I mean…” _I think you’re beautiful and amazing, Piccolo-san, and it’s very hard not to be attracted to you!_ “It’s just that I think… I’m not really sure yet but– I have a feeling that there was something in those cupcakes…” _And I try, believe me, I really do! But I can’t help but think about you like that! It’s not like I mean for it to happen! Please…! Oh, please don’t hate me…?_ “But surely, you don’t think I would—Err, w-what I mean to say is…” At that point, Gohan pursed his lips shut, choosing to punctuate his nonsensical regurgitation with a sigh of defeat. It was no use. He wasn’t making any sense. He was babbling incoherently, and it was something that only ever happened whenever he was trying to be dishonest; especially worse whenever he tried it on Piccolo.

Piccolo considered this for a moment before he spoke again.

“‘Cupcakes’…?” he said.

“Y-y-yes… There was this cupcake, you see… The one I ate for breakfast this morning… It must have had some drug or potion in it because it made me feel funny that’s why… Well, it’s the only explanation I can think of right now… I’m really sorry, Piccolo-san!”

“I see,” Piccolo said simply. “I thought you were acting weirder than usual when you arrived here and suddenly slammed headlong into the defenceless mountain…”

Gohan face-palmed. It was all coming back to him now. He started to feel hot and very horny on his way to see Piccolo, and the moment he did, he suddenly couldn’t help the urges to do things to his master that knew he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself for doing; and when he couldn’t get his mind and body to calm down, he was forced to resort to… _other means…_

Which ultimately resulted in him losing consciousness. And, it worked… Yet somehow, still backfired on him. 

“So… it was all because of these… ‘cupcakes’…?”

“Hehe… Uhh… Y-yes…?”

“I see,” Piccolo said again. He said nothing more to that for a while as he stood his full height and took the incapacitated Gohan into his arms bridal-style. “It’s late. I’d better take you home then.”

They spent the next minutes airborne in awkward silence; Gohan unconsciously fidgeting and fisting his fingers in Piccolo’s gi. His guilt for lying to his best friend was boring a network of tunnelling holes in his heart. It’s true, without those cupcakes he was already secretly and very hopelessly in love with his beloved mentor—and he had been, since forever. But he had always managed to keep his feelings in check no matter what… How was he to know that those cupcakes had some scary truth serum that forced anyone who ate it to vomit up their deepest, most depraved secrets? He knew that still did not justify his terrible act of denying Piccolo the truth, especially when his Namek friend had asked so innocently (and so cutely) like that, but what choice did he have? He did not want Piccolo to hate him! That would kill him too many times over in too many ways to count. It was actually one of his greatest fears and it always gave him mild panic attacks just thinking about it.

The moon was already out when they finally landed on the pathway to his house. When Piccolo set him down, he finally managed to stand on his own even if wobbled unsteadily for some moments. He stared up at Piccolo who gave him a smile. Well, at least, one only Gohan would be able to detect. It was always only shyly ghosting at one corner of Piccolo’s lovely lips, but as much was affirmed by the stars in the night sky reflected in Piccolo’s clear, twinkling red-violet orbs. There was no trace of judgement or fear in the Namek’s comely face; no spite nor accusation. It was still the same old Piccolo who trusted him and was always there for him, no matter what.  

And just like that, Gohan’s heart broke spectacularly.

Piccolo turned on his heel to leave, but found himself unable to move, Powerful arms which had snaked around his torso under his arms from behind had him trapped fast in a breathtakingly tight embrace.

“Yes,” came Gohan’s shaky, uncharacteristically solemn tenor.

“‘Yes’…?” Piccolo echoed softly.

Gohan nuzzled against the magically soft and comforting fabric that was his master’s cape and inhaled deeply.

“I lied,” he said, his voice a husky whisper.

Piccolo tensed almost imperceptibly.

“It’s true it did something funny to me. But everything you saw—the things I unconsciously made you see… it’s not _just_ because of the cupcakes… And…”

“'And'…?”

Gohan’s arms came loose, allowing Piccolo to finally turn and regard him properly, and the demi-Saiyajin met his dearest friend eye-to-eye, as bravely as he could.

“And, yes. Yes, I want to do all those things to you… And _so much more_. I would have wanted to love you fondly forever as a child… But I didn’t know that my love for you would grow up with me too… And the urges to express that love suddenly turned into a force of nature beyond my control… I’m sorry I denied it earlier, but I did not want you to find out that way—I just didn’t want you to hate me, Piccolo-san! I am so sorry! If it repulses you, I promise, I will do my best to never subject you to that again!”

He finally managed to bow even if it took all of his concentration to sustain it; and bow he did, as low and for as long as he could go.

“ _‘If…?_ it repulses me'…?”

Gohan straightened up so suddenly that his head spun and he pleasantly found himself in Piccolo’s arms when he had expected to hit the ground.

“…And what if it doesn’t?”

Gohan stared at Piccolo, his ears refusing to believe what it had just heard. He stayed like that for endless seconds, eyes bulging out and jaw practically digging a hole in the ground; his mouth too, would have undoubtedly caught a few frisky fireflies…

…If Piccolo had not done him the favour of sealing it shut – _with his own lips._

“So… are you going to do those things to me already…?” the Namek murmured in Gohan’s ear when he had broken the kiss. “…Or would you rather eat cupcake?”

 

**End of Epilogue.  
** **Miscellaneous Epilogue Ahead…**


	3. Miscellaneous Epilogue

“Eeek!!!”

Bloomer Briefs had been quietly minding her business, surfing the internet for the latest BL magazines. She was feeling “in the mood” for some “self-lovin’” thanks to the very pretty and provocative boy candy flashing before her eyes, when out of the blue– a box slammed down on top of her desk making her jump in fright in her seat, nearly spilling piping hot cocoa all over herself and effectively killing her lady-boner in the process.

“Son of a snuffleluhfaggot…!!” She turned, expecting to see Vegeta looking for a fight and by golly! was she going to give it to him! but instead she found—

“ _Gesundheit_ ,” said a very (*tall* and) disgruntled-looking  teenager.

“G-Gohan-kun??!! What in Kaioh’s unholy name did you do that for?? Have you finally lost your marbles??!”

Bloomer wasn’t one who was easily intimidated by “tough guys”, being around so many men and their overrated machismo all her life, but she was sensible enough to know that the nicer the person, the more you did  _not_  want to get on their bad side.

And if there was one “nice” “guy” in the whole world you did  _not_  want to piss off, it was noneother than Son Gohan—nosiree! (Unless you had a death wish.) And at that moment, the said “nice guy” did not look very pleased for some reason, so with not another word, she followed where his finger had ominously pointed to, and her eyes slowly widened in recognition when it fell upon the empty box.

“Explain that.  _Now._ ”

All the colour blanched from Bloomer’s face in record time.

**-x-**

 

**Not long ago, after the 23 rd Tenkaichi Budoukai Tournament…**

_“No reaction! No reaction!!"  came the repeated hysterical sobs._

_“Hey, now…”_

_“I can’t believe it! No reaction at all! I don’t know what else to do anymore!”_ _Chi-chi unceremoniously blew her nose for the umpteenth time and several heads turned in their direction expressing stern disapproval at what Bloomer imagined to them must have sounded like a dying trumpet, which was the last thing you probably wanted to hear while trying to relax and enjoy your croissant and cup of tea. She was already regretting having agreed to meet the newly annointed (and very distraught) housewife in a *quiet*, low-pitched neighbourhood coffee shop instead of suggesting the livelier pub downtown – the one that had ambient chatter and background music that was ideal for drowning out unwanted noises such as wailing, bawling or scandalously tempestuous farts. "_ _I’ve tried everything—EVERYTHING! I practically paraded in front of him naked! And he just stared at me like—like I was a lost prehistoric dodo bird! and then he asked if I was sick—SICK!! No one has ever made me feel so undesirable!”_

_“There, there now, Chi-chi-san. Everyone knows it isn’t you who's the problem but him. Why, I'd sure as hell be surprised if Son-kun was actually able to tell the difference between an attractive woman and a dodo bird!”_

_“Waaaahhhhh! Gee, thanks!” “Hey, that’s not what I—” “I really hate him so much sometimes!” “Saaayyy, I could really use a beer right about now, how's about you?”_

_“I just don’t understand it,” Chi-chi muttered to herself amidst sniffles. “He wasn’t like that on the night of our wedding… But since then, whenever I try to get him to have sex, he just looks at me like he doesn’t know what to do with me!”_

_Bloomer did her very best not to be self-conscious of the growing number of customers glaring at them in annoyance, and tried to concentrate more on being an attentive listener, err, sounding board._

_"_ _I hate to break it to you, but Son-kun really doesn’t. (But we thought you already knew that when you proposed to him, actually.)”_

_“That isn’t true! He knew exactly what to do during our honeymoon!” Chi-chi cupped her reddening cheeks, a dreamy look coming over her countenance. “He was so… so wild and exciting that night…! In fact, he practically jumped me!”_

_“What?”_

_“Oh, you heard me! I could never forget how Goku-sa made love to me the very first time! He made me feel so sexy and attractive, and wanted!”_

_Bloomer thought that didn’t sound like the ‘Son-kun’ she knew at all; the one who couldn’t tell the boys from the girls apart and had no interest in virtually anything that did not involve eating and fighting (not necessarily always in that order). There was something about Chi-chi’s tale that nagged at her—a familiarity about it, like she knew the reason for the freakish one instance of Son Goku hankering for sex like a very *normal* guy…_

_“Uhm… Tell me… Did uh… you, by any chance, open your wedding presents before the honeymoon?”_

_Chi-chi’s shoulders heaved as she wiped her dripping nose. “Our wedding presents? No… I looked over them and set aside the perishables, that’s all, but we didn’t really open—”_

_“Son-kun didn’t open any while you weren’t looking?”_

_Chi-chi stilled for a moment as she became lost in thought… “Well… I do remember him saying that he was famished again so soon after he had decimated ninety-nine percent of all the food in our reprehensibly overbarbaric wedding banquet… so I let him dig into the ‘light’ snacks…”_

_“Hm… Such as… cupcakes, perhaps?”_

_“Cupcakes…? Oh… wait a minute… There might have been… I actually thought they were muffins before because they were much bigger, but now that you mention it, yes, I guess they were cupcakes, I remember they had different light-coloured frosting on top like lemon meringue kisses… Why? Wait a minute… Are you telling me—?? Aaaarrgghh!! Bloomer Briefs! What were in those cupcakes?!”_

_“Eek!” Chi-chi shot up and loomed over her from across the table so snappishly that Bloomer nearly fell from her chair. “Whoa, whoa, take it easy! Don't bite my head off! They weren’t my idea! They were Mom's! And I swear, I had nothing to do with it!!”_

_“What are you saying…?” The married woman’s dainty face was pulled down in a child-like frown now, her lips quivering and her eyes filled with dread. “Are you saying that there was something in it…? That the only reason my husband ever made love to me like that was because of—of—of CUPCAKES??!!”_

_Of course, the teal-haired woman did not want to answer that question because it would understandably upset the already very upset woman even more. She knew that her silence somehow affirmed the unpleasant truth all the same, but even so, she didn’t want the bad news to pass her lips. She wasn’t particularly proud of how Mrs Panchy Briefs had a buggy habit of adding alcohol to almost everything… Which later turned out, wasn’t even limited to alcohol alone. She once tried to share the “secret family recipe” cupcakes to her “boyfriend-less” daughter out of concern, with a bit of unwanted trivia on the side about how those cupcakes were her secret weapon in seducing men she fancied in the past…_

_“I’m sorry…” Bloomer said at last when she could stand Chi-chi’s lugubrious face no longer…_

_“No…” Chi-chi deflated and fell back onto her seat. She looked like she was about to pass out, and sure enough, she swayed and began to collapse._

_“Chi-chi-san!!!” Bloomer rushed to her side._

_“How dare you…! I never-ever-EVER! want to see or hear of those horrid cupcakes ever again!”_

**-x-**

****

**Years later, during the grace period before the androids’ arrival…**

_“Oh, Chi-chi-san, what brings you here?”_

_“I want a big batch of those cupcakes, right now!”_

_“Huh?? B-but didn’t you say—?”_

_“Never mind what I said! This time things are different! The stakes have changed, and I am *desperate*! Goku-sa could die on me any moment—whether of a disease or in battle, and I am *not* letting him check out on me without paying his dues as a husband!” At that point, her cheeks coloured heavily. “I can’t take this any more! I haven’t had sex with him since that night of our honeymoon when I conceived Gohan-cha! It’s been almost ten years, Bloomer-san! Ten! Godforsaken! Years!—I’ve been patient and prideful; and where has that gotten me?? Nowhere!! So judge me all you want but I don’t give a hoot anymore! A woman has to do what a woman has to do! I’m his *wife*, godsdamnit!”_

**-x-**

 

Gohan was silent from the moment Bloomer—under duress—had finished spilling the whole sordid truth surrounding the circumstances of his and Goten’s conception, up until he had landed on the front porch of their home in Mount Paozu. He had confirmed his suspicions about the cupcakes as he hoped he would, but somehow, he wasn’t sure if it was worth finding out, because now that he had, he wanted nothing more than to forget—forget the biggest, most shocking secret behind his existence…

_The strongest warrior on Earth was born because of aphrodisiac cupcakes._

He politely greeted his mother as he passed her doing the dishes by the sink. She was humming a happy tune, clearly in a very jolly mood, and he couldn’t help but notice how she was dressed in flattering outdoor clothes.

“How was your day, Gohan-cha darling?”

“Couldn’t be better.” It was true, all things considered. The unexpected revelation did nothing to change that.

She clapped her hands in delight and gave him her signature affectionate hug, reminding him that she was going to be out for the rest of the afternoon and evening; and that he was going to be on his own but his dinner was just a reheat away from his plate.

“Thanks, Mother. I’ll manage. Have fun with Father!”

She blushed as she wiped her hands on her apron before she took it off. She casually asked for his opinion about her outfit which he gave an enthusiastic double thumbs-up to; and clearly pleased with his answer, she kissed him good-bye on the cheek then headed out. Shortly after, he heard their air car rev to life and speed off.  

The demi-Saiyajin smiled to himself as he closed and locked the door to his room behind him and spotted the tell-tale ever-so-slight rustling of curtains around his open window. And like magic, his green-skinned lover materialized out of the woodwork and not a moment too soon after, both their naked, sweat-slick bodies were on top of the bed and tangled in a glorious mess under the sheets. And somehow, Gohan could not remember anymore why anything else even mattered…

 

His mother was happy.

He and Piccolo were very,  _very_  happy.

 

Maybe sometimes _—sometimes—_ cupcakes can be served as a scrumptious, necessary evil, after all.

 

 **The End.  
** (YAY ME.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Forgot the footnotes again. Guhh. Sorry!)
> 
>  ***the kind they say you saw before you died** \- Dunno if my brain made this up or I actually heard it somewhere before.  
> 
> 
> ***omiyage** \- (Japanese custom) Whenever you visit someone's house, it is very important in Japan to always bring some kind of gift or token (doesn't have to be fancy) to show, well, basically, good manners and gratitude (among others) for being welcomed into someone's home.
> 
> * * *
> 
> This is my very first attempt at a legit, no-nonsense PWP! But I think I still failed because my muse still forced me to produce some kind of plot. Nevertheless, I can always pretend that I never wrote the epilogues, only the first chapter – that way, I can say I kind of succeeded. ^^ Thanks for reading and all! (Dear Goku x Chi-chi fans, please do not kill me. I actually find Goku and his asexuality hilariously endearing.) Happy April Fool’s, lovelies!
> 
> * * *
> 
> (2018/03/31 - 2018/04/01)

**Author's Note:**

>  **Dragon Ball/Z/GT/Xenoverse/Super** /etc. belong to their respective owners. I own nothing except this derivative fanwork which I do not profit from.


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